Taken by mikekanyo |
"We can't handle another attack like this!" bellowed Cinderella "Sugar Pie" Hubbard, frustration evident on her frustration covered face. "The Pumpkin Smashing Gang We need someone to stop this from happening again!"
Hands on her highly functional hips that don't lie because hips are incapable of expressing thoughts, let alone vocalizing them, Cinderella was a picture of entirely justified anger that would not be derided or looked down upon because of her gender like in other fiction even from well meaning authors.
"Whatever shall we do!" simpered a generic side character who will be forgotten as soon as this sentence ends. "The police won't help because of some convenient reason that requires us to pursue alternative methods of recourse!"
Suddenly, the door swung open, pushed open by a tanned rough callused hand that bespoke of a lifetime of being in the outdoors, hard work, and probably punching things. This hand was followed by a similarly tanned, rough, but not callused forearm, then a bicep, and a shoulder, and finally a head.
This head, belonged to Frank Dieselwang.
"I hear you have a problem, that needs to be squashed."
"Actually, squash is our business, but we do need a man of your...qualifications, " Cinderella's eyes flicked up and down his well sculpted frame, which appeared to be carved out of mahogany, and detailed like a luxury car that just got detailed. She also checked out his package.
Frank smiled at her correction, his masculinity not being so fragile that the tiniest correction would make him fly off the handle like some people, not naming names, and nodded. "We'll get this shop back in order, or my name isn't Frank Dieselwang."
Which it was.
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